


But a Moment

by caras_galadhon (Galadriel)



Category: Eastern Promises (2007)
Genre: Caretaking, Character Study, Control, Experience, Gentleness, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Vignette, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-29
Updated: 2012-08-29
Packaged: 2017-11-13 03:24:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/498914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galadriel/pseuds/caras_galadhon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite appearances, Nikolai prefers to be a gentle lover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But a Moment

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://nikkie222.livejournal.com/profile)[**nikkie222**](http://nikkie222.livejournal.com/), a small payment for all the joy she's provided over the years, and because I owe her a _ton_ of _Eastern Promises_ fic anyway. Many thanks to [](http://savageseraph.livejournal.com/profile)[**savageseraph**](http://savageseraph.livejournal.com/), first among fishes, for giving this story a good looking over and pronouncing it ready to swim.

There is beauty in the first slide in. Satisfaction, too, in the press into a virgin body, if done with care and surety. There can be almost no pain if the experienced partner has primed himself well enough, if he knows how to handle himself, how to handle... everything.

Nikolai knows this. He has been taught very well.

And despite appearances, despite his hard face and harder heart, Nikolai prefers to be a gentle lover. He prefers that his conquests feel no pain.

And so it is with Kirill spread out before him, a banquet of desire and devotion, of fervour and flesh, Nikolai yearns to assure him there will be no pain. But even the kindest of words cannot soothe a fluttering pulse. The proof, as they say, is in the pudding's eating.

The proving of which is entirely in Nikolai's hands.

He tries for calm, suggests Kirill close his eyes, take deep, even breaths. The first time can be the _only_ first time, and Nikolai would rather its memory did not sting.

Kirill's skin is hot under his palms, a restlessness disturbing the muscles beneath.

"Shh," he murmurs, settling a stilling hand upon Kirill's nape. "It will be but a moment."

And it is. Not more than the span of a breath, the snick of all things hidden in the dark, the stretch of a butterfly's wings as Nikolai presses in, slides deep. He imagines he hears a soft sigh as he slips the blade back out, the rush of warmth the only completion this night will see.

As he turns Kirill's body over, fingers pressed tight against the wound at the base of his skull, Nikolai repositions Kirill as if asleep. Later, he will tuck a thin card bearing Jude's likeness beneath Kirill's hands, but for now he is content to simply sit.

He brushes Kirill's hair off his forehead, bowing low to better place a kiss. Perhaps Kirill will find in Heaven what he failed to win on earth. Perhaps not. That is out of Nikolai's hands; he has given precisely what he is able to give.

If done right, there is so little pain. Nikolai takes great care to assure it. And he knows, deep down in his bones, there is a terrible beauty in this.


End file.
